Objects of Destruction
by themagiclog
Summary: Innistrad, the cursed plane, has been an epicenter for vampires, werewolves, and zombies that prey upon humanity. With the human's archangel, Avacyn, out of the Helvault, a new dawn has begun for mortality. Innistrad has returned to balance, as its Lord, Sorin Markov, intended. But the dark forces of the plane will not go silently into the night, and will continue to fight on.
1. Chapter 1: A Denounced Arrival

Chapter 1: A Denounced Arrival

He never _wanted_ to leave Theros. Dreams were so potent there. With ease he could reach into a mortal's mind and unleash the nightmares locked inside. They needed to escape. They were bottled up and tucked far beneath the surface. He could use them.

Ashiok arrived on Innistrad just moments ago. His hands still held the mana of a faraway plane, one he would certainly return to after the War was over.

Ashiok was never fond of war. It was too upfront. Too brutal. Too fast. He needed to watch his victims slowly die. He needed to examine the scenario and invent foreign ways of dismantling them. First, their mind. Then their body. The pace of war never suited his needs, so when the leonin Ajani urged for battle upon the gods, Ashiok fled.

He had met another of his kind, a Planeswalker, on Theros that told him of Innistrad. The being could not be read; mind or body. The Nightmare Weaver was left uncertain after their encounter, and he was unsure of his intentions for sending _him_ to the haunted plane. He had asked to find the vampire Sorin Markov, but Ashiok was still questioning. Why send him to Innistrad? The being, a shapeless form of the shadows, claimed to have many followers behind him. Why not send one of them? Still, Ashiok could never resist a visit to a place where mortality was under onslaught.

So there he was.

The tear in the Æther closed behind him as he used his final Theran mana up. He stitched the rip to Theros and wished it a good-night. He left behind a cult of followers, himself. They would live on, but Ashiok advised them not to join the vicious fighting.

He looked above him at the dark Innistrad sky. It was night, yet he could not see a single star. His very essence, however, seemed to be pulled by the moon. Right overhead of him, half of a shimmering white coin loomed. It pulled and tugged on the land, and, as Ashiok soon realized, his mind as well.

Levitating through the air, he took off toward civilization. His feet grazed by corn stocks that grew tall with autumn's approach. Ashiok pulled upward on the leylines below, drawing on Innistrad's blackest mana. His feet pulsed with it, and behind him the crops began to wither and die. He left a trail of hungry families behind him as he went, but that did not matter. He was testing the power of Innistrad, and it brought him great joy.

The Nightmare Weaver saw a tower in the distance. It was safe to say, he presumed, that he could learn of Markov's whereabouts in cities. They were also filled with the most people, all capable of torment.

He released the mana as he neared the tower. It was a single lonesome chapel surrounded by a small cluster of buildings. From far away it had appeared to be a much larger settlement, but it was truly just a village.

With his feet still slightly off the ground, Ashiok entered the village. It was night, and he presumed that no one would be out. No wall protected the inhabitants, but undisturbed fields expanded in all directions.

It would not be until morning that Ashiok would have to deal with his priority to find Markov, so he decided it was due time to murder once more. He went up to the church, examining the battered exterior. A religious symbol was nailed loosely above the door. He turned around and made his way to the house across the cobblestone road. The roof was low and the wooden beams were splitting. Ashiok silently summoned more of Innistrad's mana. To avoid making noise, he sent the mana trickling through his body and silently walked through the wall.

Inside, he saw that the home was very small, no more than one room. A bed dominated the center, and a fireplace the left wall. Various other objects were left unorganized and scattered in the different reaches of the establishment.

To avoid hitting his head, Ashiok descended and his feet touched the wooden floor below. He stepped silently toward the man in the bed. His feet erupted from the closest end, and his head rested on the far. Ashiok stood over him, and got a solid look at his face.

The man wore an orange beard that wrapped around his chin. Atop his head, however, there was no hair. He had a scar running along his right cheek, and his nose appeared broken. He was a rough brute, that Ashiok could tell.

The Nightmare Weaver held out his long, bony hand over the sleeping body. He prepared to tear the dreams from his head. Just as Ashiok was about to pull at his mind, a loud knock broke the silence in the room and he became one with the shadows.

The man's eyes peeled open and looked at the door. The knock came again. Then a shout from outside.

"Plut!"

"Coming," the tired man mumbled. He slipped out of bed, letting the sheets fall to the ground. Ashiok watched from the darkness as he opened the door.

"What's this about?" He asked.

"It's zombies," said the person on the other side. He adorned some thin iron armor, with a dingy sword at his side. "They've been spotted not far from here, in Borgen's End."

"How many?"

"A whole army of 'em. They're besieging Borgen's End right now. They'll move our way next, surely."

The church bells rang behind him, and the street outside began to fill with people. Voices mixed with the clanging of the bells filled the nighttime air.

"I'll be out in a moment," the man called 'Plut' said. He shut the door and ran to the left side of the room. He began rummaging through his piles of things before pulling out a long blade.

The blade's grip and cross-guard were of the same shape of the church's symbol outside. Ashiok waited for him to place the sword down on the bed and start looking for something again before silently slipping out of his shadow form into his normal one.

He quietly crept up behind the man. When 'Plut' found the armor he was looking for and spun around, Ashiok was standing there, staring at him. He yelled in surprise.

"Who are- what are you doing here?"

Ashiok said not a word. He held up and his hand to Plut's face and pulled back, tearing his greatest fears and greatest desires from his head. The man fell to the floor, mindless.

The Weaver let the desires and pleasures dissipate into the air, lost forever to the musty air inside the home.

Ashiok peared at the first nightmare, always the most prominent. A smile inched onto his lips as he saw the city around him begin to burn and collapse. Figures emerged from the ruin, and he stood in the center of it all. First fear: letting down the city.

He went to the second, where he found himself bowing to a levitating woman. The name _Olivia Voldaren_ resounded in his head. A vampire. Second fear: Submission to vampires.

Ashiok had an idea. He let the other fears fade away. He would use what he learned with Phenax, God of Deception on Theros. He had learned to deceive and trick using his magic instead of forcing a nightmare into a person. Ashiok drew some of the desires and pleasures back, although many had dissipated completely, and intertwined them with the fears. Then he grabbed at the fear and pulled and stretched, making them appear so much bigger than they were. Ashiok drew mana through his feet and let it trickle out through his hands in the form of a deceptive spell. Finally, he bound it all together and forced it back into the man's mind.

He disappeared into the shadows as Plut awoke. His hands were shaking as took to his feet. Ashiok's hand solidified and he put out his fingers. Invisible puppet strings connected his fingertips with the man's thoughts. Ashiok saw through his eyes.

They heard a scream. Plut turned and looked for the source, grabbing the sword and dashing out of the door. When he made it into the street, the church bell clanged one final time before they heard a snap and it began falling. The sounds of crunching wood resounded about the village as the humongous bell felled the chapel. Plut began running, his heartbeat increasing, and his mind filling with depressed thoughts about the church.

They ran all the way to town center, where he climbed atop a well to get a better look. Vampires filled the sky. One that Plut fully recognized, Olivia Voldaren, swooped downward at the town and picked up the man that Plut had spoken to earlier. The two went into the sky before Voldaren sunk her teeth into his throat, tearing away as his blood rained down.

"No!" Plut screamed. It sounded almost surreal. He ran forwards, towards Olivia, but a vampire dropped down right in front of him. Plut ran into the vampire's chest. He backed up, sword at the ready before it.

The vampire gnarled its teeth and ran forward at Plut, trying to jump over the blade. Plut raised the blade up, slicing down the vampire's center and causing it to drop to the ground.

A voice was speaking to him, but it was so soft and almost nonexistent that Plut payed no heed. He looked around him, though, and watched in horror as the vampires knocked torches off of walls and onto houses. Straw roofs were set alight, and soon the entire town center was enveloped in flame.

Ashiok receded into his own conscious as there came noises inside of Plut's house. He made his hand take shadow form, and looked in front of him as three moaning zombies shambled their way through the house. All three were dirty and decaying, blackened and rotted to their core.

Ashiok drew on Innistrad's mana and sent a surge flowing from his palms. Two streams went forward, taking the form of his hands. They wrapped themselves around two of the zombies and the fingers gripped the third's arms. Ashiok flung the zombies against the wall, took a form, and walked out of the house.

In front of him, two zombies had broken into the church. To his right, Plut was being restrained by two members of the town as they also fought to take down a horde that was attacking them. Around Plut's feet lay an ensemble of town members and zombies alike.

Ashiok admired his work. There was absolutely nothing but anger and fear in Plut's eyes as his friends threw him to the ground and downed him. A blade went through his chest, and a zombie mauled the assailant.

The Nightmare Weaver levitated above the battle, a black aura forming around him. He pulled his creation out of Plut's mind, intending to use the fears if need be. Someone called to him from below, and an arrow whizzed by his face. But Ashiok was facing forward at the plane before him. An eerie fog coated the fields in all directions, and a single blazing city burned on the horizon. Beyond it, mountains grew high off the ground, and the moon hung over them. _Innistrad_. _Here he was on the cursed plane, with his usual denounced arrival._

Ashiok took off for Borgen's End, the torch in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2: A Calculated Risk

Chapter 2: A Calculated Risk Out of Necessity

The wolfir had been the first to go. The eruption of the cryptoliths and their constant tugging on the moon shattered Avacyn's connection with the Cursemute. Some wolfir clung to the bits that were left and became the silverfur. Those that did not were pulled to their instinctual ways and began hunting once more.

Sorin sensed this in the plane. He had lived their for almost his entire life, which was an almost _excruciating_ amount of time, and could read it like a book. He could feel the disturbances with the moon, and the cryptoliths, but something much more troubling found him.

Nephalia was once again under siege. Someone had summoned a zombie army and sent it across Nephalia. Havengul held its own against the hordes, but cities like Borgen's End and the neighboring village of Maerell were not holding so good. Sorin had watched from the mountain cliffs as fires spread in Borgen's End. It was quickly repaired and the zombies fought off, but Maerell fell to the onslaught.

But that was still not the thing that troubled him. The troubling site was a figure, one he did not recognize, flying away from Maerell as it was under attack. Behind him, the crops withered and mana was consumed. Sorin could tell he was a Planeswalker. He did not intervene, but soon he would. To judge him. All guests to his plane had to be judged. Those that posed little threat were allowed to stay. Those who posed more were quickly disposed of.

Sorin had just barely returned from his outing and had settled into one of the many parlors in Markov Manner before Olivia Voldaren, lord of the vampires of Stormkirk, arrived to speak to him. A servant led her through the grand halls of his enormous palace and into the sitting area. Sorin rose to meet her.

"Lady Voldaren," Sorin said, putting his hands out before him, "An unexpected but certainly not unwanted company."

"Lord Markov," she said in return, "I hope I am not disturbing you."

She said "disturbing" in the most sarcastic way possible. Olivia cared little for authority besides her own.

"How is Shadowgrange treating you?" Sorin asked. Recently, the vampires of Falkenrath had assembled and mobilized against the human city of Shadowgrange in Stensia, backed by Sorin's request for balance. Ever since Avacyn was released from the Helvault, mortality has begun to take the upper hand on the plane. Even through her Inquisition, humanity has begun to push back the armies of vampires, zombies and the like. Sorin had incorporated the assault on Shadowgrange to restore the balance between the two powers.

"Well, the humans that were not killed or converted have fled to Lammas," Voldaren responded, "In the coming days, we will see an influx in Lammas. It will certainly grow to twice, perhaps triple its original size."

"Shadowgrange was a populous city," Sorin replied, "That does not surprise me."

"What I came to discuss with you," she told him, "Is the attack made upon the city last night."

Sorin knew that the humans would try to reconquer Shadowgrange. He was not naive. He knew that plentiful human lives would be lost in the assault. That was a given.

"How many humans were there?" He asked her.

"None," she replied, "At least, none alive. It was a zombie attack, as I presume you heard about in Havengul."

Now _this_ was something odd. A strange Planeswalker shows up on Innistrad and, soon after, thousands of zombies are risen from their slumber to attack cities across the plane? Sorin vowed to investigate. He would confront the mysterious figure. Eventually, that is. First, he would have to establish a rational line of defense against future attacks as he works to find the 'Walker.

"Zombies?" Sorin asked, "Are you completely certain?"

"Lord Markov, I think I can tell the difference between human blood and zombie... whatever-that-is."

"That is odd. Have you had time to contact Gisa or Geralf yet?"

"I could not get in contact with Gisa, and these were certainly not the works of Geralf. His are more scientific. More stitched."

Sorin pondered for a moment, and then said, "I have suspicions that these attacks are the works of a strange Planeswalker, one I have not heard of before. Whoever it is showed up on Innistrad just last night, presumably, right before the attacks took place. He had a strange, dark essence surrounding him and destroyed nearly half of the crops in Maerell while departing for Borgen's End."

"I have a team of agents stationed there right now," Voldaren said, "A few always like to go out and 'save' the wounded after a battle. A few words and this mysterious Planeswalker will be found."

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Sorin responded, "Your agents have never been reliably stealthy and, if we alert this being of any possible suspicions against him, they may turn hostile."

"Aren't they already?" She asked, "At least four cities were attacked last night. If that's not hostility…"

"I will correct myself then. _More_ hostile. Additionally, we aren't even certain that this Planeswalker is who summoned the attacks. We wouldn't want to make them angry."

"It's a risk we should be willing to undertake," Olivia convinced him, "The balance of the plane is on the line, and we cannot sit around and do nothing while zombies overrun our cities."

"Had you forgotten, Olivia," Sorin reminded, "That zombies are part of the balance of Innistrad as well."

"What's the worst that can happen, Sorin?" She asked, "This unidentifiable figure attacks you? You're millennia old, I don't think you should worry about open combat."

"I fear for more than that," he explained, "I fear for the plane itself. Odd things are aloft on Innistrad, and I worry that they expand beyond this one Planeswalker."

"So then you will see the necessity in our actions!" Voldaren said.

Sorin sighed. "Fine. You can try to find the being in Borgen's End, but do not send your vampires out of their way to get the capture. We want to bind whoever it is and bring them to Markov Manor, but you will avoid the alternative at all costs. Being caught is not an option."

Olivia Voldaren stood. "This is a calculated risk out of necessity, Sorin. Had you denied me, I would have done it away."

"Of course you would have."

Sorin watched her leave, and fly off toward Borgen's End. He feared for the vampires of Shadowgrange, but he prayed for the vampires searching for this unknown Planeswalker. No one knew yet what they were capable of.


	3. Chapter 3: During These Trying Times

Chapter 3: During These Trying Times

Ashiok soon learned that he would ask nothing of Borgen's End, for he would get nothing in return. He had spent the night waiting outside of the walls of the city while the remaining soldiers did repairs. They put out the fires that quickly spread, boarded up holes in the wall, chores of that nature. Ashiok found early on in his life that he did not need sleep. Instead, he decided to spend his time tormenting others'.

There was not much for Ashiok to do during the day hours, but he skulked his way into the city anyway. He summoned the clump of Plut's consciousness and pulled from it his positive attributes. Ashiok tugged at the plane, pulling the mana he needed, and cloaked himself to appear like Plut. He forced Plut's characteristics into his form, and slipped into the bustling city streets.

"Did you catch a glimpse of the hordes last night? They nearly frightened me out of my socks!"

"Haven't you heard? Malderene took significant blows last night. Avacyn, save her, but she looks beyond the point of saving."

"Those zombies tore the blade out of my hands! I had to fight through three of them with my bear hands to get it back! No lies!"

Ashiok listened to the conversations that erupted in the streets before he heard a vendor call 'his' name.

"Plut! Plut, buddy, you made it out! Avacyn bless 'ya!"

Ashiok turned to his right and saw a joyous old man standing behind a fruit stall. His head was covered by grey, as was his lip. He was short but plump, and bounced up and down as he talked.

"Plutarch the Hero of Maerell. I wouldn't believe it had I not seen it. Nah, that's rubbish! We knew you'd fight your way outta' there!"

Ashiok tried out Plutarch's voice. It was hoarse, for Ashiok had not spoken for quite some time. He preferred not to.

"I need lodging, friend. May I stay in your home?"

"Plut, the day I turn you down is the day I give up the fruit stand. You and me both know that's not happening for quite some time. You know the house. Hollin should be in there, all ya' need to do it knock."

Except Ashiok did not know the house. He could work with fears and nightmares, which were usually tied to memories, but never with the actual memories themselves.

"Can you remind me again where that is, friend?"

The man laughed. "Oh Plut, you know I can't walk far. It's just three houses up the road."

Ashiok thanked him and received an apple in return. As he walked towards the front door of the house, he put it to his face to appear as if he were eating it, but truly it was decaying in his hands. Ashiok loved to watch life fall away at his grasp. It made apparent his power.

He knocked three times to the door, and a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair came to the door.

"Plutarch!" She said. Her voice was sweet. "I'm so happy to see you! How are you?"

"Fine," he responded, "But I will be staying here for a few days while I get my bearings."

"Of course," Hollin replied, "Make yourself at home."

Ashiok walked into the house, which was a brightly lit two-story home that was dominated by a central fireplace. There was a small sitting area to his right, and a kitchen to his left. Stairs led upwards above the cooking area.

Ashiok looked around the house, but then decided he would continue on through the streets to get a feel for the city. He would be going out tonight, he presumed. Knowledge of the layout would be helpful.

"I will return in time for supper," 'Plutarch' said, "I am going out."

Hollin bid him farewell and he was off into the city. He kept his head down, attempting to be as least noticeable as possible.

As he walked away from the fruit stand and further through rows of buildings, there came a scream from in front of him.

"Vampires!"

Ashiok put his head up and began quickly strutting forwards, intrigued. Men with pitchforks ran up behind him as the busy street began gravitating towards the opposing corners of the city, where the vampires were not. Ashiok resisted the flow, as did the make-shift militia that was forming around him.

Eventually, the street was all but clear in front of a large clay building. Disrupting the emptiness was a squadron of three vampires. Their faces were pale and smirking, and they wore black cloaks with red collars.

Ashiok realized that he had no weapon, and Plutarch had known no magic. He stood in line with about ten other men, some carrying garden equipment while others with actual swords.

"Get out of here, vampire scum!" One of the militants beside him yelled.

The three just chuckled, pointing their bloodied fangs upward at the sky. They were hidden under the shadow of the buildings.

"What is going on here?" Ashiok heard from behind him. It was a loud and notorious voice. It sounded like a leader among men, a commander. He turned around and saw the approach of a tall man with black-striped grey hair with similar facial hair. He stood proud, with religious symbols adorned about his body. Behind him were five people dressed in leather armor and black tricorn hats, armed with swords by their sides. Beside them were two men who appeared to be priests. They had white robes that extended from their neck to the road and carried staves in the shape of the church's symbol.

"Three vampires," Ashiok said.

As he turned around to say this, one of them jumped on his back. He was thrown to the ground in surprise and he could hear swords be unsheathed and the rush of footsteps. Fangs went into his arm and he yelped out in pain, restraining himself from tearing at Innistrad's mana to obliterate everyone around him. Swiftly, the vampire was torn off of him and stabbed.

Thus began the bloodbath. Ashiok turned himself onto his back to watch as men were flung to the road beside him, vampires attached to their throats. Devouring flesh and sucking blood, it took four soldiers, including the leader, to rip the vampire off and penetrate his heart. The leader's blade shined a bright white and underlying blue as it went through the beast's chest. The third one seemed to have claimed another victim, but was finally impaled by a pitchfork.

The leader put his hand down to help 'Plutarch' up, and Ashiok grabbed it, accepting his help.

"What is your name, son?" He asked him.

"My name is Plutarch," Ashiok replied, "But many just call me Plut."

"A pleasure to meet you, Plutarch," he responded, "I am Sir Odric, General Commander of the Avacynian Church."

"The pleasure is returned. Thank you for saving me."

"It's the duty of humanity to defend each other during these trying times," he told him, "I was merely doing my part."

Ashiok would take pleasure in watching this man cry for mercy. He had such honor, such priority for self-image. Degrading the righteous always seemed the most enjoyable.

"Please, there must be something I could do in return," Ashiok said, holding back a smile, "Can I assist you with anything in the Church?"

"Usually I would not ask for such charity, but Avacyn needs more, shall we say, forces," Odric explained, "So I would actually appreciate some help. Would you mind venturing outside of Borgen's End?"

"I am not a citizen, I am merely fleeing Maerell," Ashiok said, "So you are doing much more charity in giving me work then I am in joining you."

"I will ask of you, then, to take up a sword and meet me in the church tomorrow evening for our departure," Odrin replied, "We move on to Gavony, center for the Church of Avacyn."

Ashiok went through the possibilities in his head. He pushed Markov to the back. Odric and his men would lead him straight into throngs of the masses, all cowering with fear from the beasts that dominate the world. He dreamt of the ways he could exploit that.

As Odric began walking away, and 'Plutarch' in suit, a swarm of beings descended from the skies and into the streets. People began gasping with terror upon their faces. Ashiok turned around.

Vampires. Again.

This vampire was a woman, with a slim black armor over a white and red cloak. She stood arrogantly amongst her fellow vampires, a clear sign of superiority over them. The others wore different fashions of black, red, and white, all armed with corrupted blades and blood strewn across otherwise nice armor.

Odric turned around as well.

"Olivia Voldaren," he spat, putting his sword out in front of him while the crowd split before him. He walked forwards, anger in his eyes, blade shimmering. "Olivia Voldaren."

"Sir Odric," she laughed, "It's seems we meet again standing over our fallen people."

"It appears so," Odric agreed, "And I think that calls for an explanation. Why sick your brutes to cause chaos in this peaceful city?"

"Oh, well, Odric," Olivia said, "A rather peaceful city would not have been nearly burnt to the ground last night, now would it?"

"Nevertheless," he replied, "An explanation is in order."

"Why?" She asked, "I promised you nothing, and so you will get nothing in return. Vampires must eat, as do humans. You understand."

"We are not your cattle," Odric responded, "Tell your vampires to stop attacking these people, these loyal followers of Avacyn."

"They are not." A voice boomed in the distance, and the sun was consumed. Ashiok looked up to discover a winged woman flying before the sun. White wings unfurled beside her, and she held out a golden staff. Her brown hair blew in the breeze as she descended towards the ground. An angel.

Ashiok had seen angels on other planes as he searched for one to call home. On Zendikar he had faced one, Linvala was her name, that attempted to expel him. Ashiok had torn apart the mind of one of her angelic associates before Linvala herself confronted him and forced him off the plane.

"Bruna!" Odric called to the angel. Olivia stared upwards, and the clique behind her began to recede into the shadows between buildings. A circle had been formed around the spot where the angel had landed.

"Odric," Bruna acknowledged. She tipped her head in his direction. "I come with specific instructions by Avacyn."

"Avacyn should know," Olivia chimed in, "That I am here on Sorin's orders."

There was murmuring among the crowd. The vampires knew where Sorin was. Ashiok could reveal himself to be not a human and go with them to find the Planeswalker, but he was still truly suspicious about the being he met on Theros that had this request. He decided that it would be better to follow Odric to Gavony, and hunt for Markov later.

"Avacyn does not know this, and I am thus not to take your word for it," Bruna replied.

"You wish not to anger the Lord of Innistrad!" Olivia said, "Leave us be!"

"And what orders are these?" Bruna asked.

"We are to snuff out a threat to Sorin's power," the vampire explained, "Yet I cannot tell you who."

"Then if not-"

But Bruna could not finish. The vampires drew their weapons and charged at the crowd.

"Find the usurper!" Olivia screamed.

Bruna stood, conflicted.

Ashiok backed up as the people around him were taken by surprise. At blade-point they were ushered over to Olivia using the vampire's superior strength. Olivia would take them by the throat, look at their face, and then if they were not the person she wanted…

Snap.

Odric and his followers decided to fight back around him. They drew swords and charged forwards through the fleeing people. A line of vampires engaged them, and they locked into battle.

A pile of three dead bodies formed around Voldaren, with another one soon to fall. Ashiok looked to his right, where an armed vampire ran at him.

Transform? Escape? Ashiok did not know. He couldn't outrun, couldn't outfight. Unless he changed forms…

He did not have to choose. Odric spun around and his glowing sword slashed across the vampire's chest, sending him to the ground. There, as he hissed and tried to scramble up, Odric drove the blade into his chest.

"We are falling here, Bruna!" Odric yelled, "Do something, I pray!"

Ashiok looked to the angel. Her eyes still very confused, her staff began to light up.

"Leave now!" She proclaimed, "All of you!"

Odric began running down the streets as people screamed around him. 'Plutarch' follow in suit. Vampires came rushing after them, dragging the slower ones to the ground.

Borgen's End was in chaos.

Bruna lit up like a beacon in the darkness. Her staff finally discharged, sending a blast of light throughout the city.

Silence.

As the dust settled, Ashiok saw Voldaren's outline flying away from the city. Dozens of charred vampires and humans filled the streets.

"We still ride to Gavony," Odric murmured from beside him, "And you still come with us. You were bitten, were you not? I must find out why."

There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.


	4. Chapter 4: Utterances of War

Chapter 4: Utterances of War

Sorin was not happy.

Olivia had returned bearing no good news. Her scouts had been caught and slaughtered. She got no information out of the city. The Planeswalker may have been alerted, and so he doubled his guard throughout the days.

A member of Avacyn's council, Bruna, had killed most of those scouts. While it was in best interest of the people, Sorin could not stand to hear of their deaths. The angels were supposed to keep balance, first off. Then protect the humans. But their judgement was put above all else and they decided to protect the humans.

And, finally, Gisa the ghoulcaller had claimed responsibility for the assault on Nephalia. She sent Sorin word from Maerell, the only village she actually took that fateful night. Gisa had constantly challenged his throne, but she had always slipped away. Sorin and her's relationship was...odd. Gisa and her brother, Geralf, both have claimed the city of Havengul, and even sometimes made attacks upon it. Other times they contested over the entire Nephalia region. Both of them, while Geralf had only done so once, challenged Sorin's position on the throne. He understood that neither of them would have the power to take it from him, and thus let them bicker amongst themselves in Havengul. Sorin was even guilty of conspiring with the two of them by secretly backing attacks upon human settlements. Gisa and Sorin regularly helped each other out, but never seemed to have a hidden knife very far away.

Geralf had seemed almost dormant lately, but that was still most likely the cause of Gisa's advance: to challenge his power.

Olivia had just been through his Manor, and now Sorin had planned to travel to Havengul to commune with the residents and decipher the events. He was sure that Gisa had moved out of the city to one of her many outposts in the countryside, but he flew to Havengul anyways.

The sun set over Nephalia, casting an orange and purple light over the mists that covered the coastline. He passed over Maerell, where the surrounding crop fields were either trampled or withered. He urged himself onward, and after a long distance but very short time, he was descending outside of Havengul.

Like most other cities on Innistrad, Havengul was surrounded by a fortified wall. It was a dark city, darker than most others. Suspicious alleyways carved their way between buildings, mysterious deals and sly attacks being made within them. The city was packed full of smaller buildings, but the span of settlement itself was enormous.

Sorin made a landing precisely before the front gates, where two humans stood watch. Their armor was large and bulky, and they carried bold axes.

"Halt!" One exclaimed, putting his hand out, "Who goes there?"

"I am Lord Sorin Markov," he responded.

"Ah yes," he said, "Of course. I am under strict orders not to let you in."

"By who, may I ask?" Sorin questioned.

"Mayor Salabruk," the guard said, "Who is under orders of Gisa."

"How could I guess," Sorin muttered, "But you'll let me in anyways."

"I am under orders not to," the guard replied.

"Trust me," Sorin told him, "You don't want to cross me."

The guards turned to each other and then, without a word, knocked on the wall twice.

"Open it," one of them yelled.

The gates began to squeal open, metal grinding against metal. It finally opened and the guards stepped aside to let him enter.

Sorin walked into the city and began pacing down the wide road. The buildings were close to each other beside him, but he felt like he was being watched from the shadows between them. Dusk fell upon Havengul as he reached the city center and began pacing up stone steps to get to the mayor's home and office.

Sorin took up the bronze stone knockers and slammed them against the dark wooden doors. He waited a couple moments until Avarus Salabruk, Mayor of Havengul, came to the door.

"Lord Markov," he said, "What a surprise."

Avarus wore a fine green tunic. His scruffy brown hair matched his personality: disorganized. He was truly put into power by the corrupt syndicates working about Havengul. The city was overrun with those.

"Yes," Sorin replied, "I was surprised to when I reached the city gates."

"Oh," Avarus responded, awkwardly, "Well, come in."

Avarus led Sorin into the main hall and then right into the parlor. The room was lined with bookshelves filled with literature, and a desk in the left corner. On the right wall was a small sitting area for two people. They sat there.

"What is it I can help you with?" Avarus asked.

"Well, you can begin by explaining why I was locked out of your city."

"Sorin, please trust me, I didn't want to. But Gisa forced me to."

"Forced you to?"

"She marched upon Havengul last night like she did Maerell, Borgen's End, and Shadowgrange. We easily fought her zombies off, but she threatened a larger force if we did not comply with her demands," Avarus explained.

"Her demands?" Sorin asked.

"Yes, one of which was not to allow you into the city."

"The rest?"

"Well, one was also to not tell you the rest," he answered.

Sorin sat in silence for a moment before saying, "You'll be telling me the rest of them, or I will have to kill you."

"Gisa threatened the same thing," he told him, "So I'll die by one of you."

"So delay your death," Sorin said, "Tell me, and you'll have time before Gisa comes for you."

"Well, I can't very well argue with logic, can I?" He laughed with clear concern, "Unless, of course, you offered me protection. Then it would just be common sense."

"How about you tell me already?" Sorin asked. He was a bit annoyed at him now.

"Well," Avarus replied, "All of them were utterances of war. She told me that Havengul was to follow her when the time came. To raise an army to assist her. To get the townspeople on her side-"

"Raise an army to assist her?"

"She said that she would keep me in my seat in Havengul if we followed blindly behind her. She said that soon, she would have a solid grasp on Nephalia. Then, she would move on to Stensia."

"Stensia? What could she possibly want in Stensia?"

"I'm not sure," Avarus said, "And she wouldn't tell me. But, after she laid forth her demands and left Havengul, the attacks took place upon Borgen's End and Maerell. I believe that was her 'solid grasp' of Nephalia."

"She attacked Shadowgrange in Stensia, as well."

"Hmph."

They sat there without a word for a few moments until Sorin spoke up.

"Was there anything else she said?"

"She just threatened to kill me if I didn't comply. So I did… well, until now."

"Well, Avarus," Sorin told him, "We can't have any of her allies hanging around if she plans on moving on the regions around my Manor."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked.

Sorin stood up and held out his hand. "Goodbye, Avarus."

Innistrad's mana flowed through him and into the mayor as he effortlessly tore his soul loose from his body. He pulled his hands back, extracting his very life essence from him. Sorin opened his mouth and ingested it.

 _Almost as good as blood._

Sorin walked out of the mayor's home and office, leaving the lifeless body behind in the chair. What could Gisa want with Stensia? Was it his Manor? Sorin did not know, but he did know that she planned to use the whole of Nephalia upon it.


	5. Chapter 5: Sundered Dawns

Chapter 5: Sundered Dawns

Hollin had just fallen asleep. Her husband was already far beyond waking. Ashiok shed his restrictive form, Plutarch, and crept silently out of the house.

He began to levitate through the streets. Black, shadowy wisps began forming around his hands and feet as he searched for a home with its members soundly sleeping.

Footsteps. Ashiok heard them in the distance. He shifted horizontally between two buildings. They came closer, nearing him. He waited there in the shadows as the steps approached. Finally, he saw their source. A guard, bearing a torch with a sheathed sword at his side, walked along the city streets.

When he passed, Ashiok emerged from the shadows. He moved silently behind him, following the soldier down the road. Just for a few moments, the Nightmare Weaver acknowledged his walking skills, then tore them out from under him.

He reached out and sent a surge of darkness into the back of his head. The helmet he wore fell from its position and clanged on the ground. It's fall revealed that his skull glowed a dark orange. His mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. He dropped the torch and fell to his knees. Ashiok pulled his hand back, and a puff of smoke forced itself out of his head.

There. Done.

The man's limp body fell forwards, onto the torch. Ashiok had accomplished what he wanted and took a moment to revel in his achievement. Then, a candlelight shined from a window above him, and he took off down the street.

It was time for another victim.

As he levitated away from his residence, an eerie noise swept across him. It sounded like quiet footsteps and hushed whispers. Ashiok turned his head to look around him, but saw nothing. He summoned pure darkness in his hands, readying himself for an onslaught.

As he went further into the town, the sounds became more apparent. He was almost certain they were there. Ashiok did not want to intrude upon a victim with knowledge of people watching him, so he paused.

He let the darkness flow from his hands and into the space around him. He embodied the energy, and felt people as it brushed by them in the alleyways.

He was being followed.

But before he could do anything - release a plague into the shadows, tear away minds - cloth found his head and he was blinded, being pulled back by a group of silent assailants from behind him. A bag was around his head and he was being restrained. Ashiok could have planeswalked away, or even just fought back. But he chose to give in, for he was curious as to where he was going.

Releasing his body to his captors, they bound his arms and whispered to him.

"Make not a sound and go where we tell you and you'll make it out alive," came a low, raspy voice from beside him.

Ashiok silently submitted. They pushed him along the road and they walked on for some time. He heard the opening of doors a few times, and walked through small alleyway spaces. Eventually, after the Nightmare Weaver had lost track of time, they took his hood off.

Before him, in a circle, stood a circle of masked people with robes. Beneath him and beside him was no longer city, he was in a building. It was small, but he could tell that the room he was in was not the only one.

A cloaked being stepped forward.

"It is time," he said. He raised his hands, and the other members of the circle joined him.

"State your name," the man said again. Ashiok could tell he was talking to him. He has released his 'Plutarch' form, so he could not claim that. Perhaps he should remain silent.

"Please state your name," the man repeated after a few moments of nothing.

"Ashiok."

"Ashiok, we are the Night Stalkers. We will forge a new future for Innistrad. A future where the powerful triumph over the fragile with no interference. A future where the cover of darkness will not be feared, but embraced. A future where the beings of the night come to hunt in the day, and the day dwellers are no more.

"Ashiok, we ask of you to contribute to our cause. We have watched your actions this night. We saw your connections arise during the day. We could see past your 'Plutarch' guise. You look to be a worthy initiate to our ranks. Or, you may choose to be sacrifice to further our cause. Either way, please choose your option and present it to me."

Ashiok pondered for a moment. He knew nothing of this group, of these members before him. The cause did not sound the least noble, but Ashiok didn't care. It sounded more _right_ than anything. More _plausible_ or _obvious._ Ashiok agreed with their statement, but he did not so much trust the people before him. He was still curious, though.

"I will join your cause," Ashiok stated, "I will join the Night Stalkers."

"Very well," the man said, and backed up so that they were all in a perfect circle.

Their hands all began to glow a dark crimson, radiating mana.

"Join our circle, Ashiok," said the person who had spoken to him before.

Ashiok joined the circle and raised his hands. His, too, began to glow red, and he could feel Innistrad's mana flow through him and all around him. It began shifting in a circle, their circle.

"When our plight in finished, the moon will be twice as large and in the sky twice as much. All will be night, and gone will be the sundered dawns!"

In a flash, the mana from all of their hands shot into the center of the circle, forming into a ball. The sphere jolted upwards, into the air. Ashiok looked up. The ceiling went far upward, but was completely open at the very top. The formation of energy went into the sky, and not far afterwards, hit the moon.

Like waves on a beach, the moon rippled with crimson and an ear splitting crack filled the air.

When Ashiok looked back downward, the circle had dissipated. Before him stood one member of the Night Stalkers, the man who had talked to him first.

"Ashiok, I am Danraes," he said. "I lead the Night Stalkers in Borgen's End. I am on orders from our supreme leader in Maerell to recruit new members. Our spies saw you for your true self today when you were bitten and nothing happened.

"You are obviously powerful. Very powerful. And we do not mean to control you. We merely request your assistance. The Night Stalkers have grown larger in the past few months with some...important additions. We would like to spread into Gavony. That's where you come in."

Danraes paused to let the information sink it. He licked his lips, then continued.

"You were given the chance to ride to Gavony with Odric. We wish for you to go there and spread our message amongst the rogues. We will march on Stensia, and Kessig will hold for itself. Soon, we will be able to rise up and take this plane from our oppressors. We will bring down the angels and use their life force to perform a rite to keep the moon in the sky indefinitely. We have already begun with the rites, as you have seen here.

"If you have any questions, I will be of service."

"Just one for now," Ashiok said, "Who is your leader in Maerell?"

"Her name," Danraes replied, "Is Gisa."


	6. Chapter 6: To Open a Can of Worms

Chapter 6: To Open a Can of Worms

Sorin looked out over the expanse of the Stensia territory to the land of Nephalia beyond. In the darkness, he sensed mechanisms moving with utmost silence. He sensed Gisa's prying eyes, and he felt the restlessness of the dead.

And he knew something else. In investigating in Havengul earlier, he discovered that Geralf had rather passive tendencies with Gisa. They had become allies in the preceding days. So, as Sorin concluded, her attacks were not to flex her power before her brother.

Sorin reached out into Innistrad and called upon Avacyn, his Guardian Angel, to come to Markov Manor. He had a mission for her.

More and more, the situation pulled itself away from the foreign planeswalker but that did not mean that Sorin did not want them found. Whoever it was, Sorin did not want them running amuck. The ancient vampire could feel shifts in the plane, the rapid consumption of black and blue mana, and the pulling of leylines. Innistrad was his, it was woven around his hand. Come to think of it, the Multiverse wasn't much different.

He waited a few minutes for Avacyn to come, and she approached with utmost urgency. She flew at remarkable speeds up to the balcony that Sorin stood on. It protruded from the side of his Manor, far above the ground.

 _Lord Sorin! If there is trouble here, tell me now for I must return to Ashmouth!_

He could hear her holy voice in his head as she approached.

 _Ashmouth? The demon stronghold? What could you be doing there?_

 _Demons are emerging at increasing speeds, and are spilling into human and vampire villages across Stensia. I, with Bruna, Gisela, and Sigarda, are trying to handle the situation but with their sheer numbers, it is becoming much more difficult._

 _We will talk afterwards. Take me with you._

Avacyn lifted her staff into the air and it glowed a bright, warm, white. Her wings beat, and in a flash, they were around Sorin and gripping the world. In another flash, they were separated, but there were illusionary wings around the vampire. The two took off towards Ashmouth.

A few minutes later, they flew over the chasm that housed the demon layer. The ground was torn open and glowing a magnificent red from the magma in the abyss.

In the center of the Ashmouth rose a solitary obsidian tower. All around it, demons and devils were streaming upwards like a swarm. Some flying demons took to the skies, while others became a river of fire and bodies that erupted across the countryside. Around the tower appeared the broodmother of them all, twisting around it and climbing. It was larger than everything else, a vicious maroon devil with a long tail and razor sharp talons. It appeared like an enormous wolf, but instead of fur a molten, smooth flesh. At the top of the tower was a jagged black protruding, where a devil carried a tall bronze trident and laughed at the rising flames.

 _Look there!_ Avacyn motioned towards the creature climbing the tower. _That one is obviously the largest. It appears to be going for the being at the top. But look closer. There is something odd on its backside._

Sorin looked towards the hind legs and saw it. It appeared to be like torn flesh, but more lattice-like. And it was discolored, unlike the usual red. It looked more purple. Yes, Sorin decided, it was like lattice-work.

And he could feel it in the ground, like he did across the plane. The leylines were bending. The mana was shifting. And, as he looked into the flames, he discovered something else.

Another presence on the plane. Another foreign being had entered Innistrad. Another Planeswalker. He could sense it.

Below him, Gisela led a charge of angels flying into the swarm. All armed with holy spears and swords, they dove towards the ground at the encroaching demon army.

The lattice kept coming back into Sorin's mind as Avacyn descended towards the crowds. There were many possible explanations for it, but one kept resounding in his mind. It was almost like it was an answer that was being given to him in some way, fed to him. One answer stuck out more than any other in his mind.

 _Eldrazi_.

That would be impossible. They were sealed away tightly on Zendikar. Nevertheless, he should find Ugin. Where was the Spirit Dragon?

He made a mental note in his head and descended to the ground just as another eruption occurred and lava spilled out into the chasm. Sorin floated just above the hordes of demons.

His hands went out and unhinged the leylines from the land around him, consuming mana as he pulled and tugged.

The angels were overcome. Flying demons met them in the skies, and they were surrounded, push backward. Avacyn and her trio disappeared from sight.

Sorin continued taking up Innistrad's mana. It became a glowing ball in each hand. He raised each hand up into the air and clasped them, forming the two balls of magic together. He reared back, then sent it surging into the ground.

There was a flash of light and a shattering of ground. The light receded into darkness, and the land was coated in black. When vision was restored, Sorin looked down at his masterwork. There was a crater below him, and the demons below him were turned to ash. Around the crater, the devils and demons were falling away to nothingness. Their flesh, their bones, their very beings were turning to ash and fluttering away in the intense breeze.

The angels pulled themselves away from the bodies as they decayed in the breeze. But they emerged… different. Sorin instantly noticed it. The very tips of their wings were stained a light red. And when Avacyn stood, her eyes seemed darker, blacker, more concede in her head.

"Avacyn," Sorin whispered, "My creation. What-"

But he could say no more. Behind him, from the tower, came a great roar. He spun around and saw that the gargantuan devil monster had climbed to the top of the tower and wrapped itself around the top. The cackling devil still stood at the top, holding out his staff.

"Lord Markov may have brought down an army," he screeched, "Yet he forget the remainders! The Reveler still climbs these walls, and the stragglers will burn down civilization! All you did was seek to open a can of worms! Isn't that what you want Lord Markov? Ha! A can of little worms? Ha! Ha! Ha! Is that what you think of us? Ha!"

Avacyn beat her wings and took off for the tower.

"Begone, foul devil!" Avacyn boomed, "Let the light of Avacyn cleanse you!"

The devil readied his trident, holding it forward and pointed in her direction. The Reveler curled around him.

Avacyn released bursts of light meant to strike down the devil, but it stood fast. Bruna and Gisela rose from the angels and followed in Avacyn towards the tower. Sorin watched as Sigarda rose as well, but she was unchanged. There were no red wings, no black eyes.

"Follow me," Sigarda called, "Brave this evil!" Angels, with red coating their wings, emerged from behind her and took off for the tower.

The Ashmouth began hissing as they approached. Demons and devils who had survived Sorin's blast crawled away, back into the hells they had been birthed in.

Avacyn's staff turned white with holy magic. A stream of angels flew behind her, following.

Following Avacyn's Light.

"Pit your angels upon me, Sorin!" the devil shrieked, "But mark my words, we will rise again! Ashmouth will not go silently into the night!"

And at once, the angels aligned. Avacyn, at its head, put her staff forward.

"May the light find you all."

Staves and swords went forward in chorus and excoriated the devil. In turn, the giant Reveler at its side hissed and swung at them. Avacyn flew back in a dodge, and the beast slithered its way back down the tower and into the magmatic chasm below.

Avacyn descended to the ground before Sorin.

 _It is done, Lord Markov. What is it you needed?_

Sorin stared into her eyes. He could see a conscious. Good.

The bit of red should not have been there, as the blood should have fallen away and not stained her wings. That would be a matter for another time.

 _I must leave this plane in search of an ancient ally. There are two things you must do in my absence. The first, and foremost of them all, is to complete your purpose. Keep balance. Protect them. Second, find That Which is Foreign to Innistrad, a Planeswalker like I. Judge them._

 _Yes, Lord._

Sorin grasped at the Blind Eternities. Avacyn knew her purpose, knew her job. He should check Zendikar for Ugin, perhaps he could be there. Yes, that is where he would begin. Zendikar.


	7. Chapter 7: Having Found Peace

Chapter 7: Having Found Peace

Hollin and her husband awoke early the next morning to watch "Plutarch" depart. They gave him a fruit basket for the voyage and bid him "Goodbye!" and "Safe voyage!". Odric rounded up his knights and priests and loaded the wagons. The team pushed off from Borgen's End from the front gate and made their way to Havengul, where they would take a boat to the port city of Hanweir in Gavony. They would stay a few nights in Hanweir before departing to venture to Thraben, center of the Church of Avacyn.

The wagons road out at daybreak, when the sun just pierced the sky. Colors spilled like blood, cleansing the sky of the night before.

Ashiok rode a horse beside Odric, who led the march on the winding roads. The air was still crisp, and the dirt on the ground still matted to the ground. The road was thin, with only brief and sparse tree cover along the way.

At the start of the trip, as the group exited the city and entered the surrounding crop fields, Odric had commented on the line of dead crops. Ashiok cackled in his head, but noted aloud how the zombies had went in that direction to get to Maerell.

"Very true," Odric said, "And I wouldn't be surprised if their damned bodies could destroy these quaint people's source of food."

There was silence for a while, as they exited the crops, took to the grassy plains, and finally entered what the majority of the Nephalia region was made up: swamp. There was a tangled road that winded through this one, but many others did not have the same convenience. As the party lurched to duck tree branches and fallen logs, and wove themselves around murky bends, conversation once again picked up.

"I suspect you are pious, Plutarch," Odric spoke up.

"Indeed," Ashiok replied, suspecting the same thing.

"Loyal to the Church of Avacyn?" Odric questioned.

"Utmost," he said, "Having found peace in Maerell, I turned to her grace."

Odric laughed a sad, sad laugh. "'Having found peace'," he mumbled, "I'm glad someone could. Peace is a tough thing to find, harder even so to keep."

"I hear that," Ashiok said, "Peace soon was lost to me, as is seen with my presence here."

Odric sighed. "The Lunarch Council does all they can to keep Avacyn's followers happy and safe, but with the terrors that haunt this land, it is as impossible a task as, as…"

He looked around him for something to compare it to, before finally finding the first thing that came to his mind. "As me combining with this horse!"

'Plutarch' chuckled. "Quite an impossibility you've come up with."

"Now, we were quite worse off half a year ago," Odric responded, "And so I must be thankful for that. We had no Avacyn, no guardian, no hope. Now, even with her back, while we are in a much better position, it's still not ideal."

"And it never will be," Ashiok added, "And that's why we're here, yes?"

Odric agreed, and they rode off, exiting the swamp a bit after the sunset and arrived in Havengul just moments later. There were no guards outside of the gate, but it was open already, so they just walked in.

They found Havengul is disarray. There were petitions and violent riots being held outside of the town hall, there were brawls occurring in the streets, houses being ransacked. Worse yet, there were no guards anywhere in sight.

Ashiok noted some powerful-looking figures creeping into the marvelous building in city center, but also in the many dark alleys all around the buildings. It was a dark city, it was cramped, it was full of shadows, and full of roguish people.

Ashiok already liked it.

"What is the meaning of this?" Odric asked himself. He motioned for the team to follow him and then jostled his horse, sending it galloping into city center.

Ashiok and the other soldiers did the same, and soon found themselves in the thick of the riots.

"What is the meaning of this?" Odric repeated, booming this time. "What has become of Havengul?"

The fighting almost instantly came to a halt. People ran into the town hall and summoned three different people to come out and speak.

"Sir Odric," one of them said. He was dressed in red and black robes. "Won't you carry on your business, for you have no quarrel with any of us here."

"Master Ovenbalt," Odric replied, "I seem to remember a conspiracy rooted in your clan. Perhaps, a conspiracy revealing your criminal ways. What is this? Have all the crime gangs in Havengul risen up at once?"

There was silence, and Odric sighed. "Of course, so that's what this is."

A woman strolled forwards who had emerged from the town hall. She wore a marvelous blue gown.

"Sir Odric, as master Ovenbalt had called you," she said, "It appears that Mayor Salabruk has been slain in the town hall. In his wake, I tried to step up as interim mayor to keep order, but these two criminal leaders rivaled me, and riots broke out between their gangs."

"And what gives you the authority to do that?" Odric asked.

"I am the Captain of the Havengul Guard," she answered.

"But a gang leader like us as well, Mallio," Ovenbalt added.

Mallio chuckled. "That as well," she mumbled.

"And so what of this third one?" Odric inquired, motioning to the third man who had come out. He was an obese thing, adorned in a fine green suit. He wore a tricorn hat, and had a dangling flab of skin under his chin. On one side of his neck, there was a grotesque bulge, and on the other, an odd pattern of scars and indents.

"And I," he boomed. He was a large man, with an equally large voice, "Am the man Avarus chose as his successor, for I am his brother! Coldree Salabruk!"

"Well, then I see no question," Odric said, "As chosen successor, Coldree shall be the new mayor."

 _Oh, boo._ Ashiok thought in his head. Although he hated war and battle, he loved human torment. _Does the fighting really have to end so soon?_

Ashiok looked around the group of people and found someone with a loaded crossbow. Perfect.

He twisted his hand around stealthily, pulling up a bit of Innistrad's mana. The disguise began to distort around his spell, and his real hand began to appear, with a dark essence around it. He had to be secretive and quick, in order to not alert anyone around him.

He would have one chance to get this right. With the spell ready in his hand, he swiftly put his middle and pointer fingers together, and lifted them up in a semicircle motion. Just as the tips of his fingers were parallel with the man's eyes, he discharged the spell. Silently, he crept into the man's darkest nightmares and made them reality in front of him.

The man screamed and backed away, accidentally firing the crossbow in the process. It could've been in fear, or at the enormous bear he thought he saw in front of him. Either way, it struck another man in the back of the head, sending his dead corpse sprawling to the ground.

Instantly, someone tackled the man and the fighting resumed. Another rogue put a blade into the back of the tackler. Like a machine, Odric's army drew their swords and clopped forward into the crowds.

Ashiok was the only not to. He was holding back laughter, but no one noticed that he didn't go forward. With their Avacynian swords, they fought back the crowds as they fought each other. It was bloodspill before they receded back into the shadows. Mallio and Ovenbalt went with them. Only Coldree remained.

"No one else should question your authority," Odric said.

They spent the night in an inn in Havengul, and then got on their boat the following morning. As the sun rose over the horizon, they set sail for Hanweir.


	8. Chapter 8: The First Object

Chapter 8: The First Object

The first Object of Destruction that can be observed in the Cataclysm of Events that would be etched forever in History is the Eye of Ugin. Planted in Zendikar like a tree of perdition, the Eye was, is, and will be an object that time ebbs around. Lifetimes would end and begin there, and stories would meet and intertwine.

The Eye of Ugin locked away three Titans, three Gods, three Masters of Eternity. It was them, the three who Took Form Only Because of Will, that would be the first reason that the Eye would be considered an Object of Destruction.

But what qualifies a thing to be an Object of Destruction? Well, first and foremost, it has to have the capacity to destroy. It has to be able to End. End Itself and Others.

It Itself must have Ended before, Destroyed another Being.

It must be able to Destroy, be able to be Destroyed, and have Destroyed already.

And the Eye of Ugin had done it all. Not only did it Destroy, but it was Destroyed Itself.

The Eye of Ugin was created by the Spirit Dragon Planeswalker, Ugin, to trap the three Eldrazi titans who ravaged the Multiverse. The Eye was a prison, and prisons themselves Destroy. Thousands of years later, it was shattered unknowingly by Jace Beleren, Chandra Nalaar, and Sarkhan Vol.

The Eye had destroyed the Eldrazi's freedom. The Eye had been destroyed. And, in its destruction, it had released the Beings of Destruction. The Eldrazi Titans.

The very core of the Eye of Ugin, a rhombus of power fit deep into Zendikar like a corrupted seed, was shattered, and there would be no changing that. It spewed in its shattering, spewed tentacles across the Multiverse.

History chains. It links, and it links in a single direction. A line. Events link to others. They are Caused, and they Cause.

Like an Object of Destruction, which Destroys and can be Destroyed, History is Caused and can Cause.

In This Story, our First Object of Destruction would be the Eye of Ugin on Zendikar, even being as far from Innistrad as it is. And our First Cataclysmic Event in our History would be its shattering.

The Eye of Ugin is an Object of Destruction.


End file.
